


Vector and the Spider Lily Queen

by Milieu



Series: A Game of Beautiful Madness [3]
Category: Changeling: The Lost, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Changelings, Developing Friendships, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Snark, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milieu/pseuds/Milieu
Summary: Two not-friends make a deal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Semi-sequel to Sunset. Vic, also known as Vector, is an Elemental Blightbent.

Vic found her in the bookstore cafe like he often did, sitting near the window though the cold seeped in there, nursing a hot cup of tea and reading (though she glanced up from her book every couple of minutes to look over at the internet cafe across the street, so it was hard to say whether she was making much progress). He lingered outside for a few minutes, exhaling white puffs of breath and gray smoke and wondering whether patrons of the bookstore cafe and internet cafe had as intense a rivalry as he imagined they probably did. When he happened to glance back over, Sunset had looked up again and fixed her gaze on him rather than the other shop.

He flashed a guilty smile out of habit. She cocked one eyebrow, a nonverbal  _Are you coming in or what_ _?_ and then made a show of turning her attention back to her book and tea, dismissing him. Vic waited another minute more just to feel the cold seep into his bones. The sting reminded him that he was alive.

Only a few patrons looked up when he entered, jingling the bell on the cafe's front door, but nearly all within a few feet of him recoiled or moved away in some fashion, consciously or unconsciously, repelled by the smell of cigarette smoke and exhaust that permeated the air around his person. The girl at the front counter made a valiant effort to keep her smile fixed on her face while he ordered a coffee. Sunset kept her eye firmly on her book as he approached, nose wrinkling up only slightly.

She smelled of flora and death. Their natural auras mingled unpleasantly, if the way the couple at the nearest table scooted away was any indication.

"What are you reading?" Vic asked in lieu of greeting. Sunset wasn't one to mince words.

" _The King in Yellow_." 

"Lovecraft?" He guessed. 

"Robert Chambers, one of his predecessors." Sunset turned the page. He could tell that she wanted to look out the window again, but she was keeping her gaze pointedly on the book now that he had made his presence known. "What do you want?"

"Would you believe I'm just after friendly conversation?"

She did look up at that, and her expression said it all. Vic guessed that her eye(s) had been naturally brown, but the remaining one's iris was now tinted red. The color matched the spidery flowers which now bloomed from the socket where her other eye had been.

Sunset might not have been objectively beautiful (few things imbued with Fae magic were, and a lot of them were less frightening than she), but she was certainly captivating. Vic wasn't generally into women, but he did have a decent sense of aesthetics despite what his appearance might suggest. It also helped that he was incredibly lonely.

"Let me rephrase," she said, sliding a bookmark into place and shutting the book so that she could focus her full attention on him. The skin on the back of his neck prickled with unease, though he was mostly able to brush it off by now. "What does the Winter Court want with me?"

Vic sighed and took a gulp of coffee before bothering to answer. "The same thing we - and by 'we' I mean the King, you understand - have wanted since the beginning." He did his best to sound earnest. "Winter's almost over, Spring outnumbers us by miles, and your joining would be mutually beneficial for you and the Court. We could really use someone like you."

He didn't add that they had intelligence that Summer and Autumn were also mobilizing to court the membership of the unaligned within the area, each seeking just as Winter was to add to its ranks before it could become the noted minority. Everyone had heard about what happened in Miami a few years back and the smaller courts were determined not to let such a thing occur in the opposite corner of the country. The Spring King hadn't hinted that he had any intentions of trying to copy that sordid tale, but Winter knew better than anyone that it was better not to take risks.

"Well," Sunset began primly, "I hate to disappoint." (Patently untrue. Vic knew she got a perverse thrill out of being difficult when someone had irritated her.) "But I'm not interested in being _used_."

Alright, poor choice of words on his part. This was going to be a fun one to explain (again) if that turned out to be her given reason for shutting their offer down this time. He decided to switch tactics.

"I don't know where you've been hiding out so far, but with our resources you could establish a permanent place of your own. Within the Court's territory, yes, but that also means added protection."

"I'm doing perfectly well for myself, thank you." Sunset began studying her black-painted nails in lieu of opening her book again, another show of being dismissive. Her passive-aggression was no match for Vic's sturdy pride, however (hey, his self-esteem might be almost nonexistent, but what was there was durable).

They were stagnating, though, so it was time to go out on a limb. "What would you want in return for joining?"

That got her attention. She paused, however briefly, for a moment looking just like a life-sized porcelain doll rather than the being of flesh, blood, and plant material that she was in reality.

When she spoke again, her voice was measured, trying to conceal her renewed interest. "What are you offering?"

Finally, progress. Maybe. Vic leaned in, folding his arms on the table. "We've got lots to offer. Information, shelter, contacts around the city... hell, even if you just want some luxuries or home comforts, we have people who can get them."

Sunset's gaze flicked to the side for just a moment, back towards the internet cafe across the street, before fixating on Vic again. A chill went down his spine that had nothing to do with cold, and he made a concentrated effort not to shudder. She stared at him for a long moment before slowly leaning in and lowering her voice.

"There's someone I need to take care of."

 _Oh_ , Vic thought,  _shit._

"And you're going to help me."

"Of course," he said, attempting and failing at a genial smile.

"Not the Winter Court," Sunset clarified, stopping him cold once again. "You. I don't trust any of them."

"You trust me?" Vic asked, more surprised than flattered.

Sunset looked him over critically. "Not really," she admitted, "but I don't think you have enough self-preservation to really screw me over if things get out of hand."

"Ouch," Vic muttered sulkily. What was worse was that she probably wasn't wrong.

"And," Sunset continued, an edge entering her voice, "you're not going to speak to anyone else about what we're going to do."

Oh, this was not going where he had wanted it to at all. "I, uh, I don't think you're supposed to be making the demands here."

"You asked me what I wanted. This is it. You help me with this, and you don't speak of it ever, to anyone, before, during, or after doing so. You do that, and I'll join your Court." She paused, as though something else had just occurred to her. "I'm not moving, though. I have my own place. The rest of you will be able to contact me whenever you need me."

"That's fine," Vic said, resigned. This was probably the part where he was supposed to comically muse on just what he had gotten himself into. "Let's cut to the chase, then. Who do you need taken care of, and what does 'taken care of' mean, exactly?"

Sunset didn't answer, instead turning her attention out the window again. After a moment, Vic followed her gaze.

Across the street, a spindly-looking man was leaving the internet cafe, laptop case tucked under his arm. He had a scarf wrapped around his lower face and the collar of his jacket turned up against the cold, preventing Vic from making his face out clearly.

"That." Sunset's voice was the quietest that he had ever heard it.

"That guy?" Sunset pressed her lips into a thin line as though displeased with his response, though Vic wasn't sure why. "Who is he?"

" _It_ ," Sunset said, sharply biting out the word. She closed her eye for a moment and inhaled through her nose before letting the breath out slowly.

"It," she began again, "is my Fetch."

She opened her eye again and Vic couldn't keep from shuddering this time when she looked at him with such intensity. "And you're going to help me destroy it."


	2. Chapter 2

Midnight. Snow falling softly, the noise of Seattle's nightlife muffled this far from downtown. Picturesque.

The darkness was welcome, but the cold had never been Sunset's element, if she were being honest. She stayed in Seattle because that was where her metaphorical and now literal roots were, and because she had unfinished business here, but she had never been fond of the cold even before it made a primal part of her want to shrivel up and die. She huddled deeper into her coat and scrunched her toes in her boots, waiting for Vector underneath the burnt-out streetlamp on the corner outside the apartment complex she had directed him to.

He wouldn't flake, she was sure; there was too much pressure on him to bring her into Winter's fold. He wasn't exactly happy with their agreement, but Sunset would have been genuinely shocked if he suddenly grew enough of a spine to turn her down at the last minute.

Uncharitable thoughts for the person who was going to help her undertake the most important step of her new life so far, but Vector had been her choice precisely because she knew he would most likely cave.

She smelled him before she saw him, chemical exhaust and nicotine fumes. She could make out his anxious expression when he got near enough. 

Sunset slipped a hand into her coat pocket and wrapped it around her butterfly knife. Something to ground her. They couldn't both afford to be anxious.

She knew the Fetch's routine like clockwork by now; Wednesdays were evening lecture from six to nine (it had let her parents bully it into business school), and then the 24-hour gym from ten to midnight (for all the good that seemed to do). A stop at the 7-11 for some packaged food to microwave for a 1 AM meal, and then bed. It should come down the road any minute now, grocery bag in hand.

Sunset tried to further steel her nerves with the reassurance that they could make it quick and leave the scene. There would be no body to worry about.

Vector didn't say anything as they waited, hunching in on himself like he was trying to disappear. Sunset thought about voicing her self-reminder about the body, but supposed that it wouldn't be much comfort to him. He didn't ask any questions, at least. He would have realized that they were unwelcome, that he had only been granted enough knowledge to formulate questions in the first place because she was desperate.

Slowly but surely, the noise of footsteps crunching through the snow reached her ears. She stepped back into the shadows and motioned for Vector to do the same.

It always took the side entrance underneath the fire escape because it was closer to the apartment. She had always done the same thing, when the apartment was hers. There was a prickle of envy and loss in her chest, and she tightened her grip around the knife.

The plan was simple: Vector, being bigger than both her and the Fetch, would restrain it, and she would go in with the knife. Quick and as clean as possible, and they would be gone before anyone knew they had ever been there.

Sunset had been so sure it would work. That should have been enough for her to realize it wouldn't be that easy.

Vector, to his credit, did exactly as he was supposed to, slipping out behind the Fetch and grabbing it by the arms, then yanking it back against the side of the building. It yelped.

"Hey!" The sound of its voice made Sunset cringe, and she saw a similar, though lesser, unease flicker across Vector's face. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward.

Any further exclamations died on the Fetch's lips as Sunset moved out of the deeper darkness, replaced by quiet, horrified realization.

"Oh God," it whimpered. "Oh God."

"Shut up," she hissed back.

Her own voice was evidently as displeasing to it as its was to her, because it jerked against Vector's grip with unexpected vigor, nearly loosing itself from his grip. Sunset closed in, drawing the knife from her coat pocket and flipping it open, only to freeze in shock and her own sort of horrified disgust as it shrieked.

"Leave me alone! God, you-  _you're not real_!"

" _You're_ not real!" Sunset snapped back at it, voice cracking. Anger, disgust, and the sense of  _wrongness_ brought on by looking at and listening to the thing kept her from caring that she had instantly been reduced to I-know-you-are-but-what-am-I level comebacks.

She lunged, and the Fetch wrenched one arm free, swinging its plastic bag of canned goods at her in a frenzy of terror. The makeshift bludgeon cracked into her ribs and she snarled in rage and pain. She felt the knife pierce clothing and flesh, but not deep enough, not quite in the right place. It exited more messily than it went in, drawing another yell. They were going to attract attention, this wasn't going the way it should have-

Sunset staggered back as Vector struggled to regain his grip on the Fetch, throwing one arm around its neck. She was breathing too hard, her hands weren't steady enough. She made to move in again, and the Fetch screamed.

Cold, sharp terror ripped through her with the noise, and for a moment she didn't see the alleyway and Vector grappling her Fetch but dark foliage closing in on all sides, dark prowling shapes moving just beyond visibility, leaping on equally unseen prey and tearing it apart as the dying animals screeched in pain, and then she became aware that it wasn't some animal screaming but herself.

She backed away, hands over her face, and when reason broke through again and she lowered them, the vision and her Fetch were both gone.

Vector was on his knees, hunched over in the snow with his head in his hands, sobbing in fear. Unsteady footprints trailed away from him and back out to the darkened street.

A light inside one of the apartments flicked on, and Sunset heard a muffled "What the hell?" as the occupant raised their window.

She took half a step towards the footprints in the snow, then stopped and looked back at Vector, who was still mumbling and holding himself.

"Vector!" Sunset moved to his side and grabbed him by the arm, trying to pull him up, but he jerked away with a cry. 

"No, I won't go back, I won't-" Sunset did the first thing that came to mind and slapped him across the face, but it only seemed to subdue him rather than bring him out of his fugue.

There were footsteps and voices from inside now. Sunset glanced from Vector to the Fetch's trail and back again before swearing and grabbing him under the arms to haul his dead weight up. Struggling to steady her breathing, she focused on the door.

As it began to creak open, she barreled into it with her shoulder, dragging Vector's limp form with her as the Hedge faded into view, leaving the snowy alleyway and confused, agitated voices of her Fetch's neighbors behind.

\---

Vector spent the rest of the night delirious, drifting in and out of consciousness on the love seat in Sunset's hollow. The first time he seemed to be cognizant, she approached, only for him to shriek and flail at her. One of his gloves came off in the confusion, and his frenzied grip left her with a shiny, stinging chemical burn ringing her wrist. She retreated to curl up in her lone armchair once he quieted, and she eventually nodded off with various sorts of displeasure swirling inside her.

When she woke again, pale winter morning light was streaming in through the single window and Vector was sitting up on the love seat, looking exhausted and disheveled. He looked even more pale and sickly than usual, the shadows under his eyes bruise-like and his dark, oily hair sticking up in every direction.

"You look like shit," Sunset said, voice slurring with sleep.

"I know." He shifted uncomfortably, drawing his legs up onto the seat and wrapping his arms around his knees. They sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "What... what  _was_ that?"

She shrugged jerkily. "Magic. Defense mechanism. Ask someone in Autumn if you really want to know more than that."

Vector made a noise that she took as agreement and looked away. "...Sorry."

Sunset sighed and sank back into her chair. "Wasn't your fault. I hesitated." Her ribs ached as if to remind her of her failure.

"I didn't mean to... you know, to lose it like that."

"Yeah, well." She remembered the vision, the wounded animal noise of her own screaming. "I won't mention it if you don't."

Vector nodded, still looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Guess I'll have to come up with a good reason for this one too," she heard him mumble to himself.

"Reason for what?"

He started. "Oh- for... you know, why you refused to join the Court."

Sunset frowned at him. "I agreed to join, remember?"

Vector matched her frown. "If I helped you destroy the Fetch. We failed at that."

Sunset chewed her lip, looking away from him first this time. Technically it was true, but Vector had done his level best there and truth be told, she wasn't in a hurry to try hunting the Fetch down. Even being in close proximity to it had left her feeling slightly ill, and now that it knew she really was out there, it would be on its guard. She shuddered, a dry laugh working its way up her throat.

"God, I-" She dug her fingers into the arm of the chair. "I hate it so much."

Vector made no reply but watched her steadily, his invitation to continue.

"It really ought to be put out of its misery, you know. I've been keeping an eye on it for more than a year now and before last night I don't think it had any idea what it is." She smiled bitterly. "It got back in touch with my family. I don't even want to know what sort of groveling it had to do before they would speak to it again. It's so-"  _Pathetic. Weak. Wrong. Not me._

She took a deep breath, but it still came out shaky. "...It's been too long now. When I first got back, you know, I thought..." She absently raised her fingers to brush the petals of the flower that occupied the space where her right eye had been. "It was my own damn fault, too. Mucking around in an abandoned building, playing with candles and incantations. I thought it would be funny. I was going to write about it on my blog."

She laughed again, but it was strained and her voice cracked. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this." She pressed her fist against her mouth to muffle any further sound. She had kept it all inside for so long. Vector was one of the only people she even spoke to on a regular basis since she had returned to walk among humans as something both more and less than they were. Loneliness was a sharper barb than any of the thorns she had torn through to get back home.

Vector swallowed, looking away from her again. After a moment, he spoke quietly. "I didn't have a Fetch."

Sunset kept quiet as he had, so he continued. "I was gone for three years. I don't even really remember it, most of the time. I just know that I was leaving work one morning - I had the night shift - and then I was somewhere else and it was- it was so hard to breathe." He tightened his hold around himself. "And then I was back. I'm not sure if I escaped or if they just got bored of me."

He pressed his face against his knees, voice dropping even more. "I tried to go home. Didn't know how long I'd been gone until he told me."

He fell silent again, so Sunset spoke up. "What was his name?"

"Andreas." The corners of Vector's mouth twitched up briefly, bittersweet. "He wouldn't have me back. I tried to explain and he told me I was crazy. Told me I was on drugs and to get out of his house.  _His_ house. Like my name wasn't on the mortgage too."

He closed his eyes briefly. "There. Now we both know something that nobody else knows." He gave her a wan but genuine smile. "Keep it secret, keep it safe."

They lapsed into silence again. At length, Sunset rose from her chair, stretching with a groan and padding to the modest kitchen in her stocking feet. "I don't have coffee, but I have tea. And Hedge fruits - the kind that don't bite back."

Vector nodded appreciatively, glancing around at the hollow for the first time. "You live here, huh?"

"Yeah." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Don't go around telling people where I live, either. I like my privacy."

"I got that impression, yeah."

She huffed a little but didn't retort. As she set the water to boil for tea, she finally said, "I'll go to meet the Winter King with you and tell him that I'm interested in joining the Court. You helped me out even if we didn't succeed and I keep my promises."

He looked surprised and a little concerned. "Are you sure?"

"I am right now, so you'd better take me up on it before I change my mind."

He continued to hesitate, and Sunset turned to him, pursing her lips and cocking one hand on her hip. "Vector."

He sighed. Instead of the response she expected, all he said was, "Vic."

"Hm?" Sunset raised her eyebrows.

He raised his gaze to meet hers. "You can call me Vic. Vector's what I go by when working. I like my real name better, anyways."

She was more than a little taken aback, and oddly touched in a way she wasn't quite ready to admit. "Alright." She brushed her hair back over her shoulder, considering. "Well, I've only got the one name and you already know it. But... my friends used to call me Sun sometimes."

Vic smiled crookedly. She thought that it was the first time she had seen him really smile, and though she was still aching physically and emotionally, though it had been so long since she did so herself that it felt out of place on her face, she couldn't stop herself from smiling back.


End file.
